My stepbrother seemed to be bound to a System. He often complained to the System: [That woman made me hand-wash her clothes again.] [I have to heat milk for her every night.] [Her hands are so small, her slaps feel like tickles.] System: [What? She slapped you too? How are you going to take revenge?] My stepbrother said while drugging the milk: [Adding a little something to the milk to make her pupils lose focus.] 1 When Noah was brought in, I was selecting a nude model. I furrowed my brows, asking them to extend their hands. "Tsk, nails too long, no." "Dirt under the nails, scram." The male models I yelled away scattered. "Too fat, too dry." "Adam's apple too small." "Nose bridge too flat." "Not a virgin." "Get out, get out, get out!" The butler chased after me to put on my shoes. Until I stepped on Noah's instep with my bare foot. I looked him up and down and asked, "Are you a virgin?" Noah was stunned. He lowered his head, his face flushed red. His denim jacket was washed white, and so was his backpack. There was a smell of laundry detergent. Not too unpleasant. Good, this cheap stepbrother of mine was quite clean. "Extend your hand." On the fair and slender knuckles were round, neatly trimmed nails. The butler advised from behind, "My eldest miss, he's not here to audition, he's your brother." I tsked impatiently. Turned my head and asked the butler, "Is there a difference?" Is there a difference? His mom hooked up with my dad. If not for our family's money, was it for my dad's stubble? Now his mom hasn't even entered the door yet, but she sent this baggage here first. The butler saw my "kind" eyes and shut up. I stood in front of Noah and ordered, "Take off your clothes." His eyes were complex, and he didn't move for a long time. My anger shot up instantly. I lifted his jacket and asked word by word, "You take it off or I take it off?" The butler seemed to want to stop me. I screamed and shouted, "I can't allow unclean people into the house!" I grabbed Noah's collar. Finally, after a while, he compromised. Jacket, white T-shirt. When he was about to take off his pants, he was silent for a while and finally asked, "Can you ask others to leave?" Troublesome. 2 After the prospective nude models left, he took off his trousers. Only a pair of boxers remained. I carefully examined him. His figure was slender and well-proportioned, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His muscle lines were smooth and full of power. His legs were long and straight, very youthful. No tattoos, no scars, combining strength and beauty. I reached out my cold hand and touched his abs. He shrank back, gasping for breath. His eyes were dark and obscure... Fingertips tracing the contours of his abs. Good, like a natural work of art. There was vigorous tension between the muscles, very suitable for figure sketching. Then chest muscles, abs, back muscles. I traced them all with my fingertips. He lowered his head, looking gloomy, not knowing what he was thinking. I was too lazy to care if it was a humiliating expression. I walked behind him, curled my fingers, and scratched his lumbar dimples. He groaned without warning, "You..." I snorted contemptuously. So useless. "Alright, put on your clothes. You can't be this sensitive when you strip for sketching later." I put on the slippers handed over by the butler. "My dad and your mom are not home now, so from now on you have to listen to me." "It's too late, I want to drink milk now." Noah pursed his lips and stood still. Did he not figure out his status yet? Did he think he came here to be a young master? I winked at the butler, and Noah was dragged to the kitchen by the butler. A quarter of an hour later, Noah came to my room. Handed over a glass of milk. I just touched the cup wall and splashed the milk back. "It's over 113 degrees Fahrenheit. Are you trying to scald me to death?" Noah was drenched from top to bottom, even his eyelashes were stained with pure milk, his eyes slightly shocked. He didn't move. I said angrily, "What are you staring at? Reheat it." 3 Before he left, I heard a slight electric current sound. I am very sensitive to all sounds. And I definitely didn't hear it wrong. The electric current sound came from Noah's body. Although it was a mechanical sound. But I still heard the words "vicious female supporting character". Interesting. Another fifteen minutes later, Noah handed over a glass of milk again. I knocked on the dressing table and said, "I don't want to drink it anymore, get out." Noah didn't speak, his face sunken, turned and left. Opened the door with one hand. Listening to the footsteps, he should be a little angry. Just then, I heard the electric current sound again: [Host, bear with this Beagle a little longer!] If Noah is the so-called host, I should be the vicious female supporting character in the System's mouth. Vicious female supporting character plus Beagle persona. I laughed out loud. Being called a Beagle, could anyone expect me to be normal? The next day, Noah was reading in the study. I smiled and said, "Time to work." Yesterday I measured with my hands. His figure simply fits human aesthetics too well. It is the best art piece. He lowered his head, his eyes covered by fine bangs. I couldn't see his expression clearly and tsked. Sprayed a handful of hairspray in my hand, walked over and lifted his bangs up, grabbed a few times casually, and set the shape. Finally, he looked at me sternly. "Don't move." I ordered. I measured his facial proportions with my fingers, moving slowly on his skull. His breath hitched, and he didn't move again. I reached out my other hand and held his neck. His Adam's apple slid up and down in my palm, seeming to herald the vitality of life. I slowly rubbed his skull and neck. A weird feeling surged up. It seemed that with a gentle twist, he could forever remain in the youngest and most vivid state. I gently outlined on his thin lips, and his breathing stopped instantly. The tips of Noah's ears turned red, and the electric current sound in his body seemed to be clamoring. [Female supporting character, don't bully our host!] I patted his face and let go of him. Took him to the basement studio. Opened all the curtains to let the sunlight in. I opened the drawing board and paint box, mixing colors while saying to Noah, "Sit on the stool, take off all clothes." I saw him half-close his eyes and take a deep breath. Took off his shirt and trousers. I pointed at his only remaining, fully stretched underwear with a paintbrush. Very impatiently: "What about this? Do you want me to help you take it off?" 4 Noah looked cold, his thin lips pressed into a straight line. Finally, he looked up, his dark and beautiful eyes looking straight at me. "No..." His voice was very unhappy. Rejecting me? But immediately I heard the electric current sound communicating with him. "Host, if you annoy this Beagle, you won't be able to complete the mission." He seemed to clench his fists. Finally, he compromised: "No need, I'll do it myself." I narrowed my eyes. So he has a mission. Satisfied, I sat five meters away from him. Sunlight hit Noah. Projecting the shade of the trees outside the window, natural shadows appeared on the muscles of the body. Very vivid appearance, worth recording. I held my breath, picked up the paintbrush, and gestured Noah's body proportions in the air. From the angle Noah was sitting, the tree shade covered part of him. Plus the curve of the body folding, it just blocked some key parts. His expression improved slightly. Under the stare of my impatient eyes, Noah sat still for half an hour. The general outline of the body was drawn. "Chirp—" The sound of cicadas suddenly rang outside the window. My pen tip trembled. Accidentally touched the canvas, and my hand began to tremble unconsciously. I put down the paintbrush and wiped the fine sweat on my forehead. Reaching out fingers stained with paint, I caressed the outline of the human body just drawn. Tore it down, eyes flashing with almost fanatical light, and then tore the canvas to shreds under Noah's puzzled gaze. The strength was great, so great that it seemed to tear the world into fragments in the next second. "Get out! Get out!" I screamed at Noah, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. "Nina, you..." He stood up immediately. Wearing nothing. It looked like he wanted to come over. But because he was wearing nothing, he paused in place. Although my body couldn't help trembling, my strength was amazing. Tearing the canvas, stepping on the drawing board, throwing paint everywhere. I only had one thought, wanting to catch that cicada. Then throw it into the oil pan and fry it. Then crush it and air-dry it. But I couldn't catch it, yet it was watching me all the time. Went crazy for a while, and the cicada sound finally quieted down. I also quieted down, leaving the studio as if nothing happened. Only Noah was left standing there silently, looking a bit complicated. He and the System inside him seemed to be frightened. I even heard the whimpering sound of the System, saying I was scarier than a Beagle.
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